


We Are Possessed, We're All Fucked in the Head

by awkwardCerberus



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Bad Things Happen To Cecil, Carlos is a Good Boyfriend, Cecil Has A Third Eye, Cecil Has Tentacles, M/M, Tattooed Cecil, reeducation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-09
Updated: 2016-04-09
Packaged: 2018-06-01 05:39:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6503068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awkwardCerberus/pseuds/awkwardCerberus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the NVSSP dumps your boyfriend on the doorstep at 3 A.M., nothing is going right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Are Possessed, We're All Fucked in the Head

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Happy Song" by Bring Me The Horizon.
> 
> My friends about me hooked on WTNV, and after marathoning it like a madwoman, here we are.

Inspired by [this art](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/A9VEdwAQwLEELQJA5RgAAAA/).

* * *

 

Cecil was late. Impossibly late. Unfeasibly late. Cecil was **never** late.

Carlos had done nothing out of the ordinary to cause his boyfriend's lateness, either. He had taken his lunch break when Cecil's show had begun, resumed his science work until about seven-thirty, clocked out of the lab, and driven home. When he had gotten home, he had placed the leftovers in the microwave (as was customary on Thursday nights) to have them warm and waiting for Cecil, then they would eat.

Only one problem...it was now three in the morning, and Carlos hadn't stopped pacing since nine o'clock. He had called everyone. The scientists, the radio station, Old Woman Josie, Abby and Steve Carlsberg, Mayor Dana—none of them had seen Cecil (although, he had his suspicions about some of the interns at the station. They had all been very defensive, and continually repeated the phrase "we don't know, he left when he left.")

Carlos finally made up his mind. He hastily threw his sneakers on and dug for his keys in the bowl by the coat rack. Just as he had found them, there was a harsh thumping on the door, followed by a mechanical voice calling out, "Night Vale Sheriff's Secret Police. Open the door."

Carlos's heart bottomed out into his stomach, and his keys slipped out of his hand like water through a colander. If the NVSSP were here, than it was never for a good reason. His hands shook as he fumbled with the door handle and unlocked the deadbolt.

A group of men in black robes and capes stood in a tight circle before the door. One of them stepped forward and switched on his vocoder, "Carlos Espinoza?" Carlos shook his head, and the man continued, "Cecil Gershwin Palmer has been reeducated by the Night Vale Sherrif's Secret Police for the discussion of affairs not allowed to be disclosed to the public. Please allow him two days to recover and for the reeducation to take full effect before returning to his regular place of work."

The two men in front stepped aside and a languid Cecil fell unceremoniously into Carlos's arms. The door slammed shut behind him, and both men fell to the floor.

"Cecil? Babe, o-oh my god!"

A thick piece of black tape had been placed over the third eye on Cecil's forehead, and some thick pieces of canvas were taped over the tentacle tattoos on his torso and back, as well as the sentient galaxies on his arms. Under his collar bone, were symmetrical squares of raw skin, where two EKG leads had been placed and hastily ripped off. A matching set of small, raw squares stood out on Cecil's temples, and something very obviously told Carlos that the leads weren't for monitoring heart rate. He shuddered at the thought of what they might actually be used for.

Carlos hauled Cecil up into his arms, bridal style, and carried him into the bedroom. The moment Cecil was laid down on the bedsheets, he curled into a helpless ball. Carlos yanked one of the quilts up off the floor and put it around his boyfriend carefully before running into the bathroom. He had adhesive remover under the sink in the bathroom, and a bag of cotton balls in one of the drawers; he grabbed a bottle of lotion for the spots where the leads had been, simply so those areas wouldn't be so sore later. On a last second whim, he grabbed the bottle of painkillers.

He rushed out of the bathroom, haphazardly dropping his current supplies on the floor by the bed on his beeline to the kitchen. Carlos grabbed a glass of water, and a small ice pack to manage any stinging from pulling away the tape. When he returned to the bedroom he found Cecil propping himself up—or trying to, at least—on his elbows.

Carlos almost dropped the glass in his hand when he lunged over to the bed, "Cecil! Cecil, I was so worried! You were so late, and then the Secret Police—"

"Oh, sweet, sweet Carlos. I made you worry," Cecil's voice was strained, and dry, and too quiet compared to it's usual liveliness as he forced a small smile. He reached up and cupped a hand around Carlos's cheek, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to."

The scientist put a hand around Cecil's and squeezed reassuringly, "no, no, Cecil it's alright. Let's just get you cleaned up, okay?"

The scientist offered up a small smile and leaned over the side of the bed for the cotton balls and adhesive remover. The first thing he wanted to free up was Cecil's third eye, but also realized that using chemical remover wouldn't be the best idea. Which left the only option to rip the duct tape off bare.

Carlos had the ice pack in one hand, and the edge of the tape in the other, with one of Cecil's hands gripping at his boyfriend's leg just in case. There was a moment where they both took a deep breath in preparation, and then Carlos began counting down from three. On "one", he tore the tape off as fast as his hand would go. Cecil's fingers bit into Carlos's flesh, his teeth gritted together and he doubled over on the bed with a pained groan. He sat back up—all three eyes watering with the sudden pain—and Carlos held the ice pack gently up to where the tape had previously been. After a moment, he had to hold a cotton ball to the skin, as tiny rivulets of blood had begun to well up in some of Cecil's pores.

Removing the tape and canvas from his tattoos was significantly easier with the help of the remover, although it wasn't completely painless. After the first piece of canvas was removed, the sentient tattoos of the galaxies on Cecil's arms had begun to move freely again, but they were an irritated shade of maroon, rather than their usual lively amethyst.

Carlos shifted around the bed to Cecil's back. He sprayed another cotton ball with the adhesive remover, "this is the last piece. I'll try and be careful, since your —"

"Just rip it off, Carlos. I don't care," Cecil moved to lie on his stomach, a pillow balled up under his shoulders and his hands grabbing at the pillowcase.

Carlos pried up a small patch of the tape edge enough so that he could get a good enough grip on it. He straddled the other man's legs and took a deep breath to steady his hands.

"Okay, Ceec, on the count of three again. One...three!"

Carlos pulled back on the thick tape so fast he almost toppled over the end of the bed. A short, sharp scream tore it's way out of Cecil's throat so fast he didn't have time to muffle it with the pillow. The moment the sound left his lips, Carlos had immediately lunged for the half-melted ice pack to press it against the red welts rising on his boyfriend's back from where the tape had been. Cecil's tentacles had begun to bubble up in their tattoo form until they languidly began to morph into their physical shape and glop down lifelessly on the bed. They groped around blindly for Carlos hand, and snaked around his wrist—squeezing it with what little strength they had.

Carlos petted a finger over the soft, tiny scales. "Cecil, are you doing okay?" He asked, realizing a second later that that was one of the few stupid questions he'd ever asked.

He got a shaky, "m-mhmm," as a reply. After another moment, Cecil finally said quietly, "Carlos, I think I would like to go to bed now."

\---

It was barely six A.M. when the shifting of sheets and mattress woke Carlos up. He rolled over, not quite knowing what to expect, but what's somewhat surprised when he saw it was nothing ostensibly terrible. Cecil was sitting up in the bed, ramrod straight, his eyes staring off at the wall (except for his third eye, which had its own vague sentience, and was still sleeping). At some point in the night, his tentacles must have retracted back into their tattoo form.

"Ceec?" Carlos asked in a groggy whisper, a hand fishing through the sheets for the radio host's hand. "What is it?"

"I think the reeducation is working now," he said, in a flat and monotone voice, "the immense waves of regret and the feeling of betrayal had started."

Carlos sat up on his elbows with concern, "are you okay? Can I get you anything?"

Cecil's head turned a perfect ninety degrees, his eyes tilted down and he said, in a slightly cracking voice, "hold me?"

The scientist smiled a small smile, "of course."

He guided Cecil back down onto the bed next to him, and wrapped his arms around the host's back. Cecil had buried his head in the dip of Carlos's neck, and curled his legs around Carlos's. Behind them, the sun began luring through the blinds, cutting a line of sunlight across the room.

Cecil's breaths even out after a few minutes, and Carlos would have to remember to call the lab and tell them he wouldn't be in today. He'd be staying like this for a while.

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta'd so mistakes are mine.


End file.
